


Where We Have Been

by Etalios



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Mentions of Slavery, Romance, Romance to Come, Slow Burn, Unrequited Love, more tags to come, oc is not the inquisitor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-21 23:12:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9571049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Etalios/pseuds/Etalios
Summary: Though still young, Nora has already had a rather exciting life. But the Maker has decided that it's not enough: The Divine is dead, the Conclave is in shambles, and the Inquisition needs blades to kill all those Maker-forsaken demons. As if that wasn't enough, Nora's past decided to latch onto her present as well. And here Nora thought she had gotten her fair share.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, this will likely be a Mary Sue story. Sorry for that. I am also completely new to this, so it may not be that good. Sorry for that as well.
> 
> If you do happen to think that this is not that good, please, I would love some feedback. And thank you for giving this a shot!

Nora was awoken by the soft sunlight seeping through the material of the tent. She groaned, head pounding in response to the light, and she turned around, eyelids pressed together.

She laid there for a couple of minutes. _The sun can’t have been up for long_ , she thought, as the air in the tent was chill, despite the tent being doused in sunlight. _Had the sun been up for long, it would be warmer._

Despite the early hour, the village of Haven was already awake and bustling with life. A keen ear listened to the sounds from outside. She heard hushed conversations, sacks of flour being dumped to the ground, and hooves stomping through the snow as more pilgrims arrived by the hour. The sound of ever so faint bird song was there if she strained her hearing, and in between the snores of whoever slept next to here (she assumed it was Storm), she could hear children laughing from across the field.

When she closed her eyes like this, it was easy to pretend she was back at the mansion. That it was the hooves of Maxwell’s horse she heard, that it was Doshiel’s younger siblings playing in the distance, that is was Doshiel herself snoring next to her.

But then the snoring became a pitch deeper than Doshiel’s could ever be, and she was pulled out from the fantasy. Or perhaps it was more of a memory?

“Storm,” she mumbled, and gave what she assumed to be his chin a shove. He hissed, and responded by shoving his own hands right back in her face.

She opened her eyes, and immediately sat up. Instead of Storm’s familiar blonde curls, she was looking upon thick, black locks of hair. Straight, at that, no curls in sight. And sticking out from these locks weren’t Storm’s ears. They were way too pointy for that.

“Maker’s balls,” she muttered. Why hadn’t she realized that this wasn’t her tent earlier? Emma had specified that they wouldn’t get any sun in the morning, as she had to pitch their tent near the trees to have enough space.

What made her even more worried though, was the fact that though she could everything that happened at the tavern perfectly clear, but what happened after was a whole other story. She had helped carry the guy, Hallen.

He had whispered something to the woman, and though she couldn’t recall her name, she still remembered the elven words the two had exchanged before entering the tent. She repeated them: “Ama’sa’ma’lin in garanhen tel’lethal’lan.” She knew 'ama' meant 'mine'. However, before she could recall any more elven words, someone groaned on the other side of her.

Nora hadn’t realized that she had said it out loud. _It must be the hangover_ , she tried to convince herself, _I don't normally think out loud._

“Fenedhis, it’s too early for your declarations of love, Hallen,” a light voice said. She turned her head around, only to sit face to face with another elf. Female, this time, with disheveled hair and a delicate pattern of branches decorating most of her face.

Nora didn’t know what to say. Neither did the elf. They looked at each other for a couple of very long seconds.

“We didn’t… Uh… We didn’t…”

“Sleep together?” the elf asked, cocking an eyebrow at her. “No, you’re still as virginal as any young Chantry sister,” she continued, as mocking undertone to her voice, “unless, of course, you and Hallen got up to something after I fell asleep. Though I doubt it.” Keen, observant eyes scanned Nora up and down. “You’re not really his… _type_.”

Nora was torn between being relieved that nothing had happened, and angry that this elf spoke to her in such a condescending manner. Part of her wanted to shoot back that she wasn’t virginal in any manner. Another part of her, the greater one, knew that this elf would just further insult her, and she didn’t want to deal with a pissed elf this early in the morning.

Before she had the chance to shoot anything back at anyone, the tent was opened, and a third elf looked in at them. There was wrinkles in the corners of his eyes, though his hair didn’t have a single trace of gray among the black. A staff was strapped to his back.

“Ellana, we’re leaving shortly,” he said, and then looked over at the sleeping male elf. He didn’t give Nora as much as a glance; it was as if she wasn’t even there. “Get Hallen up, as well.”

“’M up, babae, ‘m up,” Hallen mumbled, but instead of actually getting up, he proceeded to roll over to his other side. He reached for a staff, lying right next to him. Another snore filled the tent as soon as the older elf walked away from the tent.

Ellana, as her name was, leant over Hallen’s bedroll. She gave his back a shove with her foot. “Get dressed. Mahanon wants us to get to the Conclave early.” She went back to getting dressed, and was almost done at that, as Hallen rolled out of his bedroll.

“You know, last night, what I said did _not_ give you permission to suddenly act as a bratty little sister, Lana.”

Nora was already dressed, apparently having fallen asleep with all her clothes on, and thought that this was a good time to slip out unnoticed. She heard the playful banter continue on as she trudged through the snow, towards her own tent.

As she approached it, someone stepped out of the tent. Tall, horned, daggers already on his hips. Kaaras, the mercenary from the provision line, looked up – down? – on her and smiled. She stopped, smiled back.

“You know, I wondered why I ended up sleeping in someone else’s tent,” Nora placed her hands on her hips, “I guess I just found out why.”

He chuckled, in a way that made him seem embarrassed and smug at the same time. The embarrassment eventually took over, and he touched his neck. It was almost comical, seeing such a large man try to shrink away. “You’re up early.”

“The others are going to the Conclave for negotiations.”

“The Lavellans?”

“Yes, that was their clan name, I suppose.” Nora looked around him, eyes the now closed opening of the tent. “Have they gotten dressed?”

“Err… No.” His cheeks looked a little flushed. Nora giggled. He didn’t seem like the type that would be embarrassed by talking about sex. _Shouldn’t judge a book by its cover._

“Do they do this often?”

“Take others to bed?” She grinned at him. “Occasionally. I never quite understand how they do it. But Storm seems to just go along with whatever Emma wants. Mostly. I could never share, though.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her, in a manner awfully similar to Ellana. The small motion conveyed a lot of emotions, and just as she had been with Ellana, she wasn’t sure she liked all of them. But then she noticed that he hadn’t stopped smiling, and whatever uncanny similarity there had been was gone. “There sounds like there’s a story there.”

“Maybe.”

“I’ll let it go, then,” he said, and shrugged, as if shrugging her hesitancy off. His eyes focused on something just past her shoulders. “And I should go as well.”

Nora turned around to see another Qunari, a woman, waving at him. “Later then,” he said as he walked past her, steps long and firm.

Nora nodded, but didn’t say anything. She watched Kaaras meet up with the woman, whose features were twisted into a scowl. They started walking along, upwards, towards the Conclave.

Snow crunched behind her. Nora turned to see Ellana walking into the shadows of the trees. Neither of them said anything for some time. Nora could see Hallen and Mahanon standing near the elves’ tent. Mahanon glanced up at them, watching them, no, not Ellana, _her_ , carefully.

“You remembered what Hallen said.”

“Oh, yes, I suppose I did.”

“How?”

“Someone taught me a little, once. A friend.” Ellana looked like she was about to protest. About to say that there was no way a human could know elven. “What does it mean?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“I... see.” Nora felt annoyed. Ellana spoke and acted as if Nora forced her to be there, to talk to her. The elf’s openly hostile attitude got old _really_ fast.

Nora knew she should take the high road. Stay above it. Keep her head held high. But the infuriating woman in front of her made that very, very hard. So she lashed out.

“What’s your problem?”

“Pardon?”

“You heard me.”

Ellana sneered at her, looking as if the answer to that should be obvious. And it was, to some extent. Nora had a feeling that the problem wasn’t her as a person. It was that she was human.

From the night in the tavern Nora had gathered that the rogue in front of her had a certain distaste for humans. Even as everyone else had gotten drunker and drunker while listening to Kaaras’ stories, Ellana had been sitting in her chair, stiff as a stick and quiet the whole time. Whenever Hallen tried to offer her some drink, she had refused, and muttered something about how human mead tasted like “halla’tunash.”

But that she would be this rude towards Nora, who hadn’t done anything but help her with Hallen, was just astounding. If this was the attitude she had had towards the Chantry sister giving out rations, she understood well why she was refused service. Kaaras had been too kind, sharing his food with them.

Something about her expression must have been telling of her feelings, because Ellana opened her mouth.

“Is there a problem here?”

A young man with bright red hair stood there, Templar armor glinting in the sun. Ellana immediately closed her mouth, pressing her lips together into a thin line. Her eyes flashed dangerously, as if she was about to say something. But then she only stared angrily at Nora, before walking away.

A dwarf appeared behind the man, tattooed cheeks stretched into a grin as she walked over to Nora. Nora thought it oddly poetic, as Cadash entered the shadows. A shining Templar stood there, upright, in the sun, while the others had to resign to the shadows.

The Templar spoke up: “I take it that was all.”

“Yes, thank you,” Cadash said as she waved her hand in a dismissive manner. Nora briefly wondered where she had learnt that; seeming taller than everyone else, regal almost, as if no one could touch her.

“Thank you,” Nora said as the Templar walked away.

“No problem,” the other woman smiled, “it seemed like the easiest way to end… whatever the two of you were up to.”

“Not much, really. I take it you’re headed up to the Conclave? Family business, from what I recall from the tavern.”

“Correct,” she looked at Nora, eyes questioning. “You never said why you came to Haven though.”

“And you never shared any stories last night.”

“Point taken. We all have some secrets, yes?”

Nora didn’t answer. They both overlooked the camp outside of Haven. Nora didn’t think it possible, but there was more life than it had been when she had woken up.

“I should go,” Cadash finally said.

“You probably should.”

“I’ll tell a story next time.”

“And I’ll tell you why I’m here.”

“Sounds good,” Cadash said, and started walking. Though she didn’t stop next time she spoke, she lifted her hand as a sort of good bye. “Call me Malika, by the way.”

And then she had wandered into the crowd, and Nora couldn’t see her among the taller humans rushing back and forth.

Emma stepped out of their tent. Her hair was a light brown nest atop of her head, but she looked otherwise put together. For a moment she stood there next to Nora, overlooking the camp.

“Kaaras was nice, then,” Nora finally said.

There was laughter in Emma’s voice when she answered: “Yep. He kept calling me Emma’n’an’sal’in, though. It’s amazing we managed to get through it, when he kept yelling out my full name.”

“Emma, I do _not_ need to know the details!”

Emma laughed, and the silence settled around them again. Nora registered Emma looking at her, while she herself kept studying the on goings around them. A loud snore came from inside the tent.

“Your armor has started cracking,” Emma finally said. “I knew you hadn’t been oiling it.”

Nora shrugged. “Was planning on helping out around the smithy anyways. Let’s go and have a look at it.”

The smithy was very busy. They were put to work immediately.

“Can you smith?” a man had asked Emma as soon as he saw her.

“Yes, though I don’t work with hides of any sort. Dwarves like metal, you know.”

“You’re a little tall for a dwarf.”

“Half elf, half dwarf, sir.”

And then Emma had been put to sharpen swords, and Nora barely had time to take off the armor before being instructed to carry boxes around. Every pilgrim with a weapon was there to fix it, or sharpen it, or just wanting _something_.

It was around the two-hour mark after they got down there. Nora had just decided she needed something to cover her hands, as her nails had started to turn blue, and put down her box. Sha had just started to walk towards the tent as all sound was drowned out by an explosion so loud that the ground seemed to shake.

Nora stumbled, and almost fell.

She would have expected a panic. But everything was very, very quiet.

Emma stood next to her. She was looking up at the sky. Nora furrowed her brows.

_Why is she staring at the sky?_

She looked up at the sky as well. Suddenly she understood why everyone was so quiet. Her own jaw slackened as she stared as well.

Finally, someone broke the silence. Put words on what everyone was thinking.

“There’s a hole in the sky.”

And then the chaos began.


End file.
